Amnesiac
by xCharlizex
Summary: My dad's always taught me that it isn't worth it to hang on to past, no matter what, and that you should focus on the future. Then again, dad never actually lost his past. Not like I did. I'm James Potter II . This is my story.


_The past has always been a big part of my life. Dad always made sure that we – my brother, my god brother, my sister and I __– knew that it wasn't worth it to hang on to past, no matter what, and that you should focus on the future. Then again, dad never actually _lost _his past. Not like I did. I'm James Potter. This is my story. _

--

The first thing I saw when I woke up was a white ceiling, just a plain, white ceiling. And I couldn't help but wonder where I was. My head was pounding, and I felt a bit like I was going to throw up. The second thing I saw was a healer that suddenly leaned over me; I recognized the lime green robes. He looked very tired, and his dark hair was beginning to turn grey.

"Welcome back." He said.

'Where am I?' I wanted to ask, but I couldn't get out a single word. My lips and mouth were dry, I needed water.

"Wa-ter," I managed to croak. The next thing I knew there was a cold glass pressed against my lips, and the cooling water ran into my mouth. It felt great. The glass was removed, and I blinked a couple of times. "W-where am I?"

"At St Mungo's." The healer answered. "You were brought in about twenty minutes ago."

"What happened?" I asked. I couldn't remember doing anything that could've lead to me ending up here in St Mungo's, not even anything that might have ended up with me in the Hospital Wing.

"Don't worry," The healer said. "It's normal to repress the accident itself." He smiled at me. "You fell of your broomstick and your head broke the fall." He grabbed a clipboard and a quill from the table next to the bed where I was lying. "I'm going to ask you a couple of questions, okay? What's your full name?"

"James Sirius Potter." I said.

"What are your parents' names?"

"Harry and Ginny."

"Where do you live?"

"Godric's Hallow."

"What year is it?"

I wondered what kind of stupid questions these were. The first ones sounded like the things your first grade teacher wants you to tell the rest of your class. And the last one - what year is it? - did he think I was retarded or something? It was two thousand and… two thousand and what? Twenty? No, that couldn't be right, because that would mean I was fourteen, and I really felt older then that, body and mind.

The healer was looking at me, his eyes clouded with suspicion. "I… I don't know." I answered, feeling dumb.

The healer was silent for a moment. "Mr. Potter – _James_ – how old are you?"

How old was I? Older then fourteen at least, much older. I looked down at myself. The only thing I could really tell by doing that was that I was wearing my scarlet quidditch robes and that I was lying on top of the covers instead of under them, and that didn't help me much. I could feel the healer's eyes on me.

"Older then fourteen at least." I said, in the lack anything better to say. How could I not know how old I was?

"I see…" The healer muttered. "Now, what's the last thing you can remember?"

I searched my mind. I remembered quite a lot, mostly small things, the problem was to find the most recent memory. Maybe something from the game where I'd hit my head? But then I realized that the last quidditch game I could remember was the final game against Hufflepuff, where I'd caught the snitch and secured Gryffindor the 2020 Quidditch Cup. After that I could remember taking my exams, and that Ravenclaw had won the house cup beating Gryffindor by twenty five points, and I could remember getting on the Hogwarts Express to go home. After that, everything was pretty blank. I could recall some things, but I wasn't sure if it had happened the summer after my third year or at some other point in my life.

"Going home from Hogwarts." I finally replied after much thinking, that didn't really help my pounding head. "After my third year."

The healer gaped at me. "Are you saying you don't remember anything after the end of your third year at Hogwarts?"

"Exactly."

There wasn't time for anymore words to be exchanged before a familiar voice had cried out my name, and then my mum was hugging me. Her hair tickled my face, and I breathed in her familiar scent. It smelled like home, and a bit flowery.

"Are you alright?" She asked, while still hugging me tighter then anyone had ever hugged me before, as far as I could remember. Mum was a lot stronger then she looked.

"Mrs. Potter," The healer – who'd mum quite violently had pushed away to be able to put her arms around me – began. "It appears to me that your son is suffering from amnesia."

"Amnesia?" My mum asked, finally letting me go and straightening up so that she could look the healer directly in the eyes – not really though, since he was a lot taller then her, mum's always been slight. "You mean he…"

"Doesn't remember?" The healer filled in. "That's exactly what I'm saying. He doesn't know what year it is, he doesn't know how old he is, and his last memory is finishing his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

I thought it was really unnecessary of him to use the whole name, he could have just said Hogwarts. Mum didn't seem to care a bit about what he'd said, and instead just looked at me again. "Oh, I was so worried about you James, I thought that… that you…" She didn't seem to know how to finish the sentence.

"Mrs. Potter, if you please, I would like for you to leave so that I can do some tests."

Right as the healer said that my head began spinning so violently that I had to squeeze my eyes shut. "James!" Mum cried and I felt how she put one warm hand on either side of my face. "Honey?" I didn't like her calling me honey, it made me feel so small, but I didn't say anything, mostly because my head was killing me.

"It's probably his head," I heard the healer say in a calming tone.

And that's all I remember before I went unconscious.

--

When I woke up again I couldn't help but moan. My head was still hurting, the centre of the pain came from a spot on my forehead this time, or perhaps it always had, I just hadn't been able to feel it.

"Finally awake, huh?" A voice, unfamiliar to my ears, asked from an end of the room which I couldn't see fro my position, so I tried to sit up, only to fall right back down again. I let out another moan. The person who spoke began moving towards me, I could hear his footsteps – because it had been a male voice – and then he was standing right next to me.

It was a teenage boy whom I didn't recognize, perhaps fifteen years old. I was certain I hadn't seen him before, but somehow he seemed strangely familiar. After a while I recognized why that probably was, the kid looked a lot like dad. He had the same thin face, and the same black hair - only not as messy – and even the same emerald eye colour. It was then that I realized just exactly _who_ it was.

"Al?" I asked.

He grinned at me. "That would be me,"

I couldn't help but stare at him. And I had all right to, because this boy couldn't possible be Albus. Because Albus, at least how I remembered him was small and skinny and easy to fool and not even thirteen yet. The Albus that stood in front of me on the other hand was pretty tall - he probably towered over me - and was shining with confidence.

"Is it true what they say?" He asked. "That you don't remember anything since you were fourteen?"

I just nodded. It really was creepy looking at Albus like this. I've always known he'd looked a lot like dad, and people have constantly pointed it out, but now, seeing him almost all grown up he looked more like dad than I could have ever imagined – the only thing missing was the glasses and the lightening bolt scar!

"Are you feeling alright?" Albus asked. "You're staring at me." Even his voice reminded me a bit about dad's.

"Sorry," I answered. "It's just... you're older."

"Yeah, well, people tend to grow up at least a tiny bit in four years."

"Four years?" I repeated. "_Four years_?"

"Yes, it's October 2024, you're eighteen, and the rest of the world it's pretty much the same as you remember it." Albus shook his head. "You know, I was hoping they'd put you in one of those ridiculous hospital gowns."

"Where's the rest of the family?" I asked, trying to change the topic.

"Mum and dad went to the cafeteria with Lily, they'll be back soon, and none of our other relatives can be here until visiting hours tomorrow, except the ones who are still at Hogwarts, they can't be here at all. How are you feeling?" He added the last part with a frown.

"I'm fine," I lied. "What about it?"

"Well, you're just looking sickly pale, that's all. Oh, and you have some serious dark circles under your eyes, I haven't seen anyone look that bad since Rose stayed up until five in the morning studying for O.W.Ls."

I moved my left hand – unlike all the other members of my family, I'm left handed - to my forehead, or more exactly, to the spot that was generating most of the pain in my head. I felt nothing beneath my fingers. "Where did the healer go?"

"Your head's hurting isn't it?" Albus asked. There was concern in his voice, he was worried about me. It was strange to think that Albus was the one being worried about _me_; I had always been the protective older brother.

"More like throbbing."

Albus frowned even deeper at my answer. "Can I get you anything?" He then asked. "Water?"

"No thanks, Al, I'm good."

All of the sudden, someone entered the room, chatting rather loudly. "So, Al, I got you a pumpkin pastry. Hope that's alright, I mean, you did ask for a cauldron cake, but they were out of them so-" The girl cut herself of rather suddenly, and I cringed my neck to get a better look at her, since Albus was blocking my view of the door.

She was petite, with quite long red hair - it was hard to determinate, since it was up in a ponytail – and she was dressed in scarlet trimmed Hogwarts robes, just like Albus. She tilted her head to the side as her brown eyes locked with mine, and then she flashed me a toothy grin. "James!"

She was by my side as fast as mum had been, and she was hugging me just as tightly. "Oh, James, I'm so glad to see you awake, you scared the hell out of me." Then she let me go and reached up and slapped Albus in the back of his head. "You know what," She said. "I'm bloody eating your pumpkin pastry, or giving it to James, depend on if he'll want it or not." She ripped one pastry out of each of Albus' hands.

"Lils!" Albus complained, and for a moment I saw his old, whinier self.

"Lily?" I asked, staring at my little sister, who, even though she was still smaller then I of course, didn't look so little anymore.

She whipped around and faced me. "What?"

"Nothing, I'm just finding it hard to believe that's it's you, that's all."

"Oh, you mean the whole amnesia business?" She laughed. "Kind of weird to see your supposed-to-be twelve year old sister with boobs, isn't it?"

If I had been drinking or eating anything, I would definitely have choked on it, but since I wasn't, I just choked on my own saliva – I didn't even know you could do that. "Boobs?" I got out. "Did you just say _boobs_? Where on earth did you learn to use that word?"

Lily thought for a moment. "The rest of the world," She then answered. "In my dormitory, at school, you and Al, on TV…"

"In your dormitory?" I asked. "You mean you and your classmates actually-"

Lily cut me off. "Talk about our bodies? It's happened once or twice."

"You grow up way to fast." The voice that came from the doorway was familiar, strong and safe. It was the voice of my dad, I recognized it immediately. Unlike mum and Lily, dad didn't rush up to me and almost squeeze me to death. Instead he calmly walked up to me, smiling. He looked just like I remembered him, except there was some dark stubble on his chin and cheeks. He was carrying two plastic cups of coffee.

To make room for dad, Lily sat down on the bed, just by my feet, and Al moved to the foot of my bed. I looked towards the doorway where mum was still standing, leaning against the doorframe, a calm expression on her face.

"Aren't you going to rush in and squeeze the life out of me again?" I asked her.

"No, "She said, smiling. "I think I'll just stand here and enjoy the moment."

"Good to see you awake son," Dad said while ruffling my hair – not that I think it made much of a difference, my hair, like his, is always a mess. "How are you feeling?"

It felt as if I'd heard that question a billion times. "Good. Apparently I'm an amnesiac, but otherwise I'm fine."

"Really?" Albus asked. "What about your head, it looked like it was causing you pain when we talked."

"Fine, so maybe I do have a headache, it's no big deal."

"I'm going to find a healer," Mum said from the door. "Be right back."

After mum left, I tried to sit up, but I ended up falling backwards, _again_.

"You alright?" Dad questioned as he looked at me worriedly.

"Just a spinning head, that's all." I replied. "But I bet that's normal when you've suffered from head trauma, right? By the way, what really happened? When I hit my head, I mean,"

I was looking at dad as I spoke, but at soon I was done, dad looked at Albus, who looked at Lily, who looked back at him in a very determinate way. Albus sighed. "Fine," He said. "I'll tell you. It was the first game of the season, you were playing against Hufflepuff, and you were right about to catch the snitch when the Hufflepuff beater decided to stop you, so he flung a bludger at you. He would have hit you in the neck if the snitch hadn't slipped between your fingers and changed direction so that it flew behind you. You turned your head to see where it went when the bludger hit you right in the forehead, and you fell of your broom immediately. You were pretty high up in the air too, and you kind of hit your head again when you landed. I thought you were dead at first, it was really scary. We all ran out on the field and all the other players stopped the game and flew down to you on the ground and then everyone crowded around you-"

"I had to elbow a couple of kids to get to you," Lily said.

"You just love to cut people of, don't you?" Albus asked. "Anyway, that's about it. You were brought here and McGonagall contacted mum and dad and then we were brought here."

I blinked at him. "A bludger?" I then asked. "I lost my memory because of a _bludger_? People get hit in the head all the time, why did I get amnesia?"

"Maybe because it hit you right in the forehead?" Dad suggested. "Or maybe because you hit your head twice or maybe it was just coming at you harder then any of the others." Then he handed me one of the two coffee cups.

"What's this?" I asked, once I held it in my hand. "I don't drink coffee."

"You do in these days." Dad answered. "And not with milk or cream either, like most kids your age, you drink it black."

I moved the cup up to my face and sniffed it, and then I brought it to my lips and carefully sipped the hot drink. It didn't taste that bad really; I guess I was used to it, even though I couldn't remember.

"Not so bad," I said.

In that right moment mum came back with the healer from before - and three other healers too- and they asked everyone too leave so they could look over me in private. I didn't really like the sound of that.

My parents told me they'd be back in the morning, and then mum kissed me on the forehead, and Lily gave me a pack on the cheek, and after dad and Al had each given me a pretty identical sympathetic smile, they left. And I was alone with the four healers.

--

As promised, mum and dad stopped by on their way to work – or in mum's case, before the Puddlemere vs. Cannons game began – and told me that Albus and Lily had been sent back to Hogwarts the previous night. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

Another great thing about mum and dad dropping by was that they'd brought a pyjama. I'd spent the night in my already sweaty quidditch robes, so it was nice to slip into something clean and comfortable – even tough the legs were a bit short. I don't think I've ever changed clothes so quickly in my life.

My first official visitor on the other hand, who showed up at precisely ten o'clock when visiting hours began, was Teddy. He looked exactly like I remembered him, since there isn't such a big difference between being 26 and being 22. His hair was an alluring shade of electric blue that morning, and he grinned as he entered the room.

"Hey James," He said. "Sorry I couldn't be here yesterday, but you know, no real blood relation." I smiled at him as he sat that next to me on the bed – I'd actually managed to sit up straight without falling, a nice change I had to say.

"Nice to see you too Teddy," I said. He had his hands put together in hi lap, and I noticed something on his left hand. "You're married?"

Teddy looked confused at first, but then it probably hit him that I had amnesia and he simply held up the hand with his wedding ring for me to see more clearly. "Yeah, it was the summer before your fifth year; you were actually at the wedding you know, since you know both me _and_ the bride."

The bride, I figured, had to be my cousin Victoire. She and Teddy had been dating when I ended my third year, and had since Teddy was eighteen I'd found out when everyone first talked openly about their relationship when I was for Christmas in my second year - so it was only logical that they had gotten married.

"Vic'll be here soon," Teddy said. "She'd just finished giving Claire a bath when I left."

I couldn't help but wonder who this 'Claire' was. A dog, perhaps? Teddy had always loved animals, and he often said he was going o get a dog, but it had never happened.

"Who's Claire?" I asked. "Strange name for a dog."

Teddy looked at me very funnily. "James," He then said. "Claire isn't my _dog_, she's my _daughter_."

_Daughter_. The word echoed in my mind. Teddy was a dad?

"You're a dad?"

"Unless there's something Victoire has _forgotten_ to tell me."

"Wow." I got out. And then I remembered how babies were made. "Ew."

"What do you mean 'Ew'?" Teddy questioned.

"I can't remember anything since I was fourteen not four. I do know where babies come from."

I could recall how disgusted I felt when I'd first caught them snogging. I'd been twelve back then, almost thirteen. It actually hadn't been just the whole watching someone push their tongue down someone else's throat business that made me feel disgusted, Teddy had always been like a brother to me, and finding your almost brother snogging your cousin, is rather weird.

Teddy chuckled. "Really, Harry gave you the talk?"

I shuddered as I recalled the horrible event the summer before my third year. "Don't remind me."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't," He answered. "Gran convinced him to give the talk to me when I was thirteen, so I would just be bringing up my own bad memories."

There was a slight knock on the door, and then it opened and my cousin Victoire walked in, and in her arms – dressed in pink overalls with silver trim, a white hat, and gloves and shoes that seemed ridiculously too big for her – was Claire.

Victoire herself was simply dressed in a beige jacket with a red knitted scarf around her neck – probably courtesy Grandma Weasley.

"James, hello, how are you feeling?" She said and Teddy left my bed, walked up to her, and she handed Claire over to him. Claire seemed to be about a year old or so, I wasn't very good at determining babies' ages.

"I'm feeling better," I answered. "Still can't remember anything of the past four years, but otherwise I'm pretty fine."

"I'm glad to hear that," Victoire replied as she and Teddy – still with Claire in his arms – walked back up to me bed and sat down. It was pretty crowded, since the bed was kind of small. Teddy removed Claire's hat and gloves and then zipped up her overall to reveal a yellow knitted sweater with tiny pink flower right over the heart.

"There," He said," Don't want you to get too warm now, would we?" And then he kissed her face, I guessed he was aiming for either her cheek or her forehead, and Claire let out a delighted sound as her blonde hair turned a bright green.

"She takes after her daddy," Victoire explained, without needing too. "Would you like to hold her?"

And before I'd even had time to answer, Teddy had handed me Claire and adjusted my arms so that I wouldn't drop her. She smelled a bit weird, not bad though, certainly not bad – I guess I could identify the scent as 'baby'.

The happy family stayed for about an half an hour, and about ten minutes after they'd left, Grandma and Grandpa Weasley showed up, along with Uncle George who'd been able to take some time off from work. They brought me chocolate, which I really appreciated.

Of course, I had the entire box finished when my dad arrived again, this time with Uncle Ron by his side. It was about an hour or so after my three past visitors had left; an hour I'd spent only eating chocolate and reading the latest edition of the Daily prophet - which an assistant healer had brought for me - over and over again.

"Hey son," Dad said. "We're on our lunch break, and thought we should drop by."

"Nice to see you too," I replied.

"We just talked to the healers," Uncle Ron said. "And they said you can come home tomorrow.

"Great," I answered. I was really bored with the hospital.

"And," Dad continued and threw a backpack at me. "I brought you this too,"

I opened the backpack; inside it were four photo albums, one for each year I couldn't remember. "Thanks, dad." I rolled up the sleeves on my pyjama jacket, preparing my self for what would be hours of looking at photographs.

And that's when I spotted it. The scar that ran vertically across my right wrist.

"What's this?" I asked, as I gently ran my left thumb across it. Something had sliced my wrist. The question was, was it me?

I looked at dad. "The scar?" He shifted his feet, he was uncomfortable. His eyes were focused on everything but me. "That's…"

It was clear that he didn't know just how to finish the sentence, and in that moment I knew what I had feared was true. But I still wanted to hear it.

"What?" I urged him to go on.

"Harry…" Uncle Ron mumbled.

"It's what's left from the time to tried to kill yourself," Dad finally managed to say.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my first fanfic ever written. I actually started it months ago after reading _Memoirs of a teenage amnesiac_ by _Gabrielle Zevin_, but I only recently finsihed it. Let me know what you think by reviewing! :)**

**Charlize**


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